


What Merlin Hid

by Piscaria



Category: Merlin (BBC)
Genre: Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-25
Updated: 2010-04-25
Packaged: 2017-10-14 05:50:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/146061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Piscaria/pseuds/Piscaria
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur finds something suspicious while searching Merlin's rooms.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Merlin Hid

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally written for Ienablu for the [Five Acts Meme](http://toestastegood.livejournal.com/508068.html#cutid1) on livejournal.

Another hiding sorcerer, another search of the castle. Sometimes Arthur felt that it was almost becoming a routine – slam open the door, stand in the doorway while his men poked through cupboards and peered under beds, move on to the next room and repeat. Most of the time, they never actually found the sorcerer in question. By now, he'd probably used magic to smuggle himself out of the castle, if not the kingdom. As far as Arthur was concerned, the only bright spot in the whole business was the chance to search Merlin's room. Arthur always did that himself, just for the chance to watch Merlin get twitchy as Arthur shamelessly nosed through his things. For all of the times Merlin had pried into Arthur's concerns while being so bloody secretive himself, Arthur felt more than a little justified in turning the tables on his manservant.

"You really think he's hiding on my nightstand?" Merlin said, his lips drawn into a thin line as he watched Arthur examine the carved, wooden dragon before setting it carefully back into place.

"He's a sorcerer, Merlin. He could be hiding anywhere." Unfortunately, the nightstand held nothing he could tease Merlin about later. Undaunted, Arthur moved on to the bed. Duty compelled him to take a quick glance beneath it, although he was certain that dusty wasteland beneath Merlin's bed was too disgusting even for a sorcerer to tolerate. Standing, Arthur surveyed the rumpled bedclothes on Merlin's thin mattress, and decided to watch Merlin fume for a few minutes longer. Nonchalantly, he drew back the edge of a threadbare wool blanket.

"Arthur, wait!" Merlin said, but he was too late. Arthur had already caught a glimpse of what lay beneath the covers: a worn book and a crumpled linen shirt.

Ignoring the book (Merlin kept nearly as many scattered about his room as Gaius did the outer one), Arthur snatched up the shirt and held it accusingly in front of Merlin's face.

"Is this . . . ?"

"I was mending it," Merlin said, the tips of his ears flaming red. He always was a horrible liar.

"It's not torn, Merlin!" Arthur said, waving it in front of Merlin's face for good measure. The shirt was his favorite, faded red and soft from multiple washings. It fit him perfectly, and, true to his word, seemed entirely in good condition, save for the wrinkles it had gained crumpled up in Merlin's bed.

"It was looking a bit frayed," Merlin said, not meeting Arthur's eyes. Arthur looked from him to the shirt to the rumpled bed, and smirked as the puzzle pieces fell into place.

"Really, Merlin, I'm flattered. But if you want to steal one of my shirts to moon over at night, find a different one."

"What? That's not – no!" Merlin sputtered, turning almost as red as the shirt. "I don't –"

"Spare me the details," Arthur said. "I really don't need to know what you do with it."

"You've got the wrong idea!" Merlin protested.

"It's okay," Arthur said. "Most of the servants in the castle are infatuated with me."

"I suppose you know that from experience," Merlin snapped.

"Maybe," Arthur said, letting his gaze drift over Merlin's body. "Is that an invitation?"

"You're not my type," Merlin snapped, spine rigid and arms crossed. His cheeks were still flushed, and Arthur laughed, enjoying himself more than he had since this whole business with the sorcerer started. If the man were still hidden in Camelot, they would have found him by now. Arthur always saved Merlin's room for last. No, Arthur had time to tease Merlin a bit longer.

Still chuckling, he reached out and caught Merlin's neck cloth, pulling him closer. The shocked widening of Merlin's eyes sent a shiver down his spine. He reeled Merlin in until they stood nose to nose, breath mingling in the space between them.

"Arthur," Merlin started, and stopped helplessly, his gaze dropping to Arthur's lips, then flickering away.

"Yes, Merlin?" Arthur breathed. He leaned in closer, fisting his hand in the neck cloth to keep Merlin still. Merlin's pulse was jumping in his throat. Curiously, Arthur lifted his free hand to press a finger to it, feeling it speed beneath his touch.

Merlin swallowed, drawing in a ragged breath, and that was too much – Arthur burst out laughing, releasing Merlin.

"You should have seen your face!" he crowed.

"You . . . you arse!" Merlin sputtered. The indignant expression on Merlin's face fueled the laughter even more, and Arthur doubled over, wiping the tears from his eyes as he shook with laughter.

"Sorry to disappoint you, Merlin."

"I'll show you disappointed," Merlin snarled. Arthur barely had time to track the movement before Merlin had caught him by the shoulders and slammed their mouths together.

The kiss was rough, bruising, and when Arthur gasped from the surprise of it, Merlin slipped his tongue into his mouth, stroking it along the length of Arthur's own. When Merlin started to pull away, Arthur rallied himself by instinct, cupping Merlin's face in his hands and tilting it, taking control of the kiss. Merlin resisted for a moment, stepping onto his tiptoes to use his height as leverage and nipping at Arthur's lower lip. But though he wasn't a patient man in his everyday life, Arthur knew how to take his time in battle. He fought slow and dirty, lapping a path down Merlin's throat and ripping away that stupid neck cloth to suck on Merlin's clavicle. Merlin groaned into his mouth as Arthur walked him backwards, pinning him against the wall, and Arthur knew he'd won when Merlin's hand stole into his trousers to palm the aching length of his cock.

When they finally pulled apart, flushed, sticky, and breathless. Merlin's eyes were wide and impossibly blue. He rested his forehead on Arthur's shoulder, while Arthur slipped a hand up his shirt to stroke the smooth, warm skin of his back.

"So I'm not your type, am I?" Arthur said, when he could breathe again.

"Shut up," Merlin said, but there was no bite to it. Arthur laughed breathlessly, then spotted a rumpled cloth on the floor. Retrieving it, he wiped himself off, and then (feeling generous) Merlin. Only as the haze in his mind began to dissipate did he realize that he was cleaning them with the much-abused red shirt he'd found in Merlin's bed. He cocked an eyebrow at Merlin, who blushed.

"Um, I can wash that," Merlin said.

"See that you do," Arthur said, trying for his usual tone of commanding indifference, but falling short. He dropped the shirt, and hitched up his breeches. Belatedly, Merlin reached to help him with the laces, but his fingers were so fumbling that Arthur waved him away. They dressed themselves in silence, watching each other awkwardly.

"So," Merlin said. "Um."

"Well," Arthur said, hoping he didn't look as disheveled as Merlin did "It's clear that there's no sorcerer in here. I should continue with my search."

"The search," Merlin repeated slowly. "Right."

Arthur shook his head. "Idiot," he said, not bothering to hide the fondness in his voice. Merlin's head snapped up, and he searched Arthur's face for a second before breaking into a smile at whatever it was he saw there. Giving into temptation, Arthur leaned forward one more time and quickly brushed his lips against Merlin's. "Don't laze around while I'm gone," he murmured, drawing back. "I need you to scrub my floor, sweep the fireplace, and wash that shirt."

"And polish your sword?" Merlin added cheekily.

"Only if you're lucky," Arthur said, and swept from the room.

The End.


End file.
